Indigo Falls
by please-make-me-smile
Summary: After spending the best part of her childhood chasing her mother's dreams,Mitchie settles down for senior year in her off-the-map hometown of Indigo Falls.And sometimes a smaller place and a slower pace helps you notice the bigger things in life.
1. Prologue

**Nothing but the plot is mine. En-hoy.**

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They say you shouldn't stick to the beaten track. You know what I mean, right? For most people, when it snows and they don't want to ruin the prettiness, they walk where other people have dared walk. And for the other people that have realised that the snow isn't going to last forever, they're the ones who have formed that path. The human race is designed to do what they think is right, not what is necessarily right. And me? I'm no different, even when presented with the opportunity.

I was 16 when my Mom asked me if I wanted to move to Paris with her for the next branch of her fashion in economics course. I knew I would be setting myself up for imminent downfall had I agreed-I'd jetsetted around London, Madrid, Tokyo and Sydney already holding the arm of a new friend and a new pair of peace-offering sunglasses each time, a feeling deep in the pit of my stomach making me very aware that at any moment I could be pulled from the grasp of each respective blonde/brunette/neon pink girl from the candid snapshots that adorned my scrapbook.

I was small town at heart, after all. I'd spent the first six years of my life where I was supposed to be right now, bored out of my skull with logarithms and iambic pentameter, and now a sense of nostalgia and a push towards what _appeared_ to be the right decision was sending me that-a-ways, back to the abode of my grandma Delilah who was all too happy to see me. And I was 16, like I said, so I was essentially in charge of my own life and my own decisions. The most glamorous cities in the world did nothing to juice up my motivation for my own life-instead it made me realise how inferior I really was. And while my Mom made no attempt to grow up and wipe the imprints of stars in her eyes, I could see all too well a ghastly image of her rained-on form underneath the rusting slats of the Eiffel Tower. I wanted to spare myself of a real life vision-Polaroid of that scene, and so I headed from LAX straight to Indigo Falls and into Lil's loving arms and her kitchen full of freshly baked cookies.

"You're so pretty now, Mitchie." She smiled, her eyes shiny with emotion. "I remember when you were this big." She put her hand by her knees with some difficulty. "Your room is still the same! We haven't changed a thing."

Ok, so Lil was a little backwards. But she had something Mom lacked severely-the love-light in her eyes. People say that your Mom is the only one in the world who truly wants anything good for you, ever. But I think Connie Torres disproved that theory, with the help of Delilah right here.

"Argh!" I covered my eyes, fishing in my pockets instantaneously for the promised Prada lenses that shielded me from the glaring yellow wallpaper adorning the walls of my childhood room. Raggedy Ann sat merrily on a flower-shaped cushion, a patchwork quilt underneath and books scattered all over the white shelf-units Dad helped put up before he died three years ago.

"Do you like it?" Delilah asked, excited.

"I-....it's sick, Grandma. I love it." I told her honestly, eyeing a stuffed cow sitting on my headboard with some trepidation.

She ruffled my hair fondly and left me to unpack surrounded by my childhood desecrations of art. Good thing I'd improved by far since then.

To be honest, I never knew what I was going to get myself into anyway. Indigo was the perfect retreat from flashing lights and road rage, sufferance of the past 8 or so years. I wasn't expecting anything special to happen here. But like most things, without the experience, I couldn't be sure.

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**YES. I'm back. With a confusing story, I know. So did you get any of the prologue (which explains the shortness)? If you didn't, the gist of it was to confuse you slightly. But basically, Mitchie is the girl who wants a break from her whole jetsetting city life thing and she picks Indigo Falls (her made-up hometown) as the place to do it. It's a **_**way**_** different standard of writing from Making the Connections, I hope. Also I'm well aware nobody reads CR fanfic anymore...hoping to change that trend. **

**Drop me a review please? Much appreciated. **

**Love you all.**


	2. In which it begins:

When I lived wherever it was Mom had decided to make us live, she liked me to be 'the best dressed kid in school.' _I_ had the one Mom willing to buy me that Juicy Couture tote (the wallet-cleaning one) that apparently 'every teenage girl in the country wanted.' Ironic when I was happier in the AC/DC shirt I bought for five dollars at a thrift store in downtown New York.

Lucky for me, Delilah didn't give a rat's ass if I walked out of the house looking like Krusty the Clown. I'm not altogether sure her eyesight provided her with such clear comparisons anyway, if I'm going to be honest with you. I was only clad in a skirt and a top, though, paying some sort of homage to the words of my Mom and the letters of her credit card.

Anyway, Lil had pancakes for me set up on the table with maple syrup smile faces in honour of my first day at school in Indigo Falls. A week had passed since I had settled in and now everyone was breaking into those _tasty_ September moods that made you realise you were eternally fucked.

"Have a lovely day, sweetie." She stroked my hair, setting a glass of orange juice down by the Barbie plate. I tucked in-it had been about four years since I'd had actual homemade food prepared by somebody other than me. "Finish up and I'll ask Mary's daughter to drive you down.'

There was good 'ole Delilah, always taking the initiative. It was such a tiny-ass town that the walk to the local high school was around 20 minutes and a drive was about 5. It took me all but two days to gather as much information about this place as I could-with the help of Lil's next door neighbour Mary's daughter Grace, the only other remotely-near-my-age person on the street. She was 17, but you'd look at her and think she was just going into junior-high. Her potty mouth made up for it though.

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"Fuck!" Grace screeched, as she swerved closely into the school parking lot. In her defence the spaces were insanely small. I merely grinned, getting out of the car.

"So this is campus." She got out too, standing next to me. "Over there are your jocks, there's your band geeks, your emo clan, chess club and math society, debate team, glee, cheerleaders..." She rattled off a long list of cliques. I had to stifle laughter at how badass they thought they were being sitting metres away from each other in cultic circles. Try San-Fran, children of the Falls. Their zoo's only so big for a reason.

I scanned the disinterested faces of the student population, uninterested myself at the hordes of acne and lopsided smiles I was getting from the males. The cheerleaders eyed my Free People attire with smug smiles of distorted approval. I knew Grace was One of Them, and though they weren't as bad as anything I had encountered before, I made sure to stay away from them. Hanging around vapid people always made me feel guilty-why waste banter about Estee Lauder when you could be donating to UNICEF?

My eyes fell upon one face in particular. It was like my gaze was locked onto him; in the same way the FBI have those bodily-heat tracking sensors with the glowing arrows in the corner just to make sure you absolutely _don't_ miss the red life form cavorting among black and white blocks everywhere.

"Who's _that_?" I turned to the side to do a mini Spanish inquisition on Grace but she had long since retreated to the side of her spastic plastics. I have never _not_ liked to be in the know-particularly in the case of some eye candy-so my curious mind seemed to pedal my feet towards the exclusive group he had formed in the middle of the jock segregation.

They fell silent with the scent of female wafting towards their evidently horny nostrils. A particularly large one-Kojak, I call him-stood up with lust in his eyes. I have to admit I was scared.

"Siddown, Ricky." The Gorgeous One spoke. He stood up instead-I guessed Ricky's stand was out of place and any contact with the female world was made through the Alpha Male. I had mental images of him becoming a polygamist for the sole purpose of marrying a dead-end woman for each of his teammates here. "Can I help you?" He asked sweetly.

"You can start by telling me your name." I crossed my arms, looking him up and down pretty obviously with a small smile. Flattering the ego with a double barrel-by showing your approval of a body and by making the tiny-brained guy think that he's caught the approval from your subconscious smiling. You don't get by in London without knowing these things.

"Shane Gray." He cocked his head to the side slightly. Adorable personified. "And you?"

"Mitchie Torres." I held a hand out cordially, making him feel appreciated. I expected him to shake it or something, but instead he pressed his lips to my hand. So I was dealing with a suave one. I'd been in this predicament before, for sure.

"Mitchie." He repeated the name like it was butter rolling off his tongue. That mental image was making me salivate. "Mitchie. How old are you, Mitchie?"

"Just right." Ricky yelled, looking me over again. The group behind him laughed.

"Shut up, Ricky." Shane said. Ricky bowed his head like a naughty schoolboy and the group dispersed.

"Wow. That's quite a leash you have on them there." I remarked.

"Hmm. Works in my favour a lot." He smiled then, and my knees almost knocked together. It was like skies had opened up somewhere. "They're my soccer team, the minute they don't listen it's extra practice for them." He shrugged nonchalantly.

"Your soccer team?" I asked, my pupils dilating slightly on the 'your'. He grinned, and I knew I'd touched on the right note.

"Yeah. I'm the captain. Led 'em to state last two years. No big deal."

"I would say it's quite..." I let my eyes flicker downwards briefly. "..a big deal."

I was only teasing. But he blushed slightly. Precious. These small-town kids didn't have a lot of exposure to anything, evidently.

"Um...so you're in senior year, right?" He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

"Yeah." I smiled.

"So...can I walk you to homeroom?"

How could he be so sure about that I was in his homeroom-oh, wait, population 2000, 600 of which are students ranging from 6-18 years old. The math was blurry in my head but I knew it added up somehow.

"Yeah."

From the looks the female population were giving me I knew that there was no way it was anything but his looks that were getting this boy by. I had him right where I wanted him, without fail-and that told me that this was going to be way too easy.

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